


L’appel du Vide

by Evelyn_Harrison



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Dying relationships, Goodbyes, Heavy Angst, M/M, Past Relationships, Sad, Unhealthy Relationships, bipolar, break ups, happy bday to my amazing wife Jen!!!! :DDD, hurt/comfort but it’s just hurt, much darker than what I usually write oof, tw death, tw self harm mention, tw suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 09:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evelyn_Harrison/pseuds/Evelyn_Harrison
Summary: The Call of the Void was surprisingly strong today. Tempting, enticing, captivating; something both Evan and Connor couldn’t say no to. Simply couldn’t let go of.After all, it’s not like their love could hold them together any longer.





	L’appel du Vide

**Author's Note:**

> L’appel du vide = The call of the void
> 
> Prompts used (from https://connormurphyfangirl.tumblr.com/post/183254653986/sentence-starters):
> 
> “I’m worried about you.”  
> “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.”  
> “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”
> 
> Rubber Band by iKON: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4pRmmT6DTy4# (it was a bit of inspiration... just to set the break up tone and metaphors lol)
> 
> Happy birthday Jen! >;3c

Their love was once this brilliant, bright and colourful pastel painting. Vibrant, full of life, utterly beautiful. It lasted for a while, Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy were able to hang on to each other like things really would be alright. They were able to help each other grow and live with happiness and the sense of security and safety.

They’re love just wasn’t enough.

Realistically, the power of love wasn’t able to help Evan overcome his overbearing weight of anxiety that stuck onto him everyday, every minute, every damn second. It wasn’t able to drive away the voices in his head, it wasn’t able to get rid of the scars that he gave himself.

The power of love wasn’t able to help Connor win against his suffocating and destructive thoughts, to shoo away the depression that plagued him constantly. It wasn’t able to help him control his emotions and the harsh words that never meant to come out of his mouth. 

It helped, of course it did. But it simply wasn’t enough.

Times where they sat side by side on the couch during the night, cuddled up to each other, to the times where they would lie in bed and stare at the glow stars on the ceiling, to the times where they sat quietly at their favourite grand oak tree. Those times were precious, like fragile glass that you couldn’t allow to shatter. However, one slip up, one moment were they weren’t looking, it’ll fall beneath them and push them farther and farther. 

Memories were delicate, they were the flower petals of everything. When Evan or Connor would look back to them, those flower petals became thorns that hurt them more than it ever should. Sharp, quick and rough, it caused them to externally and internally bleed.

“I’m worried about you.” They’d say to each other when times were rough. They’d carefully tip toe around each other and hope that they don’t make things worse. Caring was one thing but how long could they keep it up? If there life was a game, they were constantly gambling and losing. Battle after battle, the chances of winning the war was dimming.

Their relationship was like a rubber band; stretchy and tough, about to snap at any second. They would have to let go soon, or else the other one would be hurt from the recoil. Not wanting to hurt each other, not wanting to inflict any more pain, what other choice was there but to hang on for a bit longer?

“Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.” Those words would be tossed into the air once in a while. They know that bottling up their emotions before it spills out wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism. But with all of the burdening pain that they both carried, it should be fine to hold it in so the other one doesn’t feel even worse.

So maybe counting the fresh lines on your skin would be a better way to release that pain. So maybe pressing the yellow and purple blotches on your thighs would be a better way to hide away those feelings. So maybe keeping them in were a better idea, no one wanted any more pressure and desperation hung around their neck.

“If you don’t hug me right now, I think I might fall apart.” There were times where they’d finally let go of that pain and talk it out, hugging and kissing and letting the boiling, coiling intrusive thoughts simmer down. Light touches and soft pecks on the cheeks almost makes it where you’d think that they were fine. That the tears that had fallen before didn’t exist.

Because they all need a hug, because they all need someone to rely on and rest their head. Because they needed someone to guide them along the way, to help them find their lost light. The light that they’ve been desperate for, the light that maybe, just maybe, could let them be okay again.

~~~~[—]

It’s always too good to be true, however. One day, they were fine, but the next, everything was like the world was finally collapsing on itself. Those dark and burdening thoughts, those white noises and red vision, those irritating itches and those short breaths all would bundle up into one giant problem. 

Alana had called it the _L’appel du Vide,_ also known as the Calling of the Void. She claimed she learned it in French class, since it was how she would sometimes feel on her bad days. A suicidal feeling, something that makes you want to end it all for no reason, that strange temptation and urge.

It was definitely strange to hear Alana Beck of all people to say that she had felt like that, considering that it was Alana Beck, mock school president and model honours student. Someone who couldn’t possibly be suicidal or have anxiety and depression, or any mental disorder.

To hear Zoe Murphy write a poem about it was even stranger. The Zoe Murphy, the most popular and prettiest girl in the school? The amazing guitarist? The sun of the gloomy school? She couldn’t of have those sort of things, she was just not that type of girl.

Not that they thought, anyways. No one thought that Evan would have crippling social anxiety, no one really would think that Connor would have bipolar. If anything, if anything, it would just be what parent’s claim as ‘a phase’.

Those long nights of arguing with themselves, those short noons filled with longing touches, those afternoons with them crying in the local college bathroom stall, those midnights of whispered promises. These confusing feelings and confusing emotions, that unsureness and lack of confidence, those times where they all wish this pain would end.

Yes, it’s all just a phase... all just a phase.

[—]

A goodbye letter that was never meant to be seen, a lie that they never meant to tell, Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy are living a life that they never wanted. Never needed, never asked for. 

“I think we should break up.” Those words always ended up in tears. Bitter tears, selfish tears, angry tears, disappointed tears, sad tears. Salty, sweet, and sour. Nothing ever good came out from those words, no one would be able to leave without feeling hurt, without feeling a desperate urge to ask why.

It must of been months after they split up. After sleepless nights and loud sobbing, to quiet days with limited smiles, neither of them thought they’d be here. Maybe it was for the best, maybe it was better for them in the long run. No more holding onto that rubber band, no more holding onto something that could end up in disaster. 

Like a math equation that couldn’t be solved, like a short answer question on an exam that was never taught, Evan and Connor blindly walked their own paths with the diming memories of each other and the past. How things could’ve went, how things should’ve gone. Now they’ll never know what they could of been, what their future could of been.

Evan’s anxiety continued to get worse, Connor began to spiral out of control. The tight neck hold depression had locked on like chains and handcuffs, nothing seemed to be working or helping.

And finally, the day came.

The Call of the Void was surprisingly strong that day. Tempting, enticing, captivating, intoxicating; something both Evan and Connor couldn’t say no to. Simply couldn’t let go of. A chance to make everything okay again, a chance to escape reality and into a dreamland, a chance to fix everything. Who could say no to it? If this was the way out and away from their problems and pain, if this was how they could solve it all, of course they’d say yes.

One bottle full of colourful pills, one rough rope, one decision that could change everything.

They could of easily set things straight, they could’ve easily avoided this bad ending. They could’ve been okay, it’s what they always wanted. 

One final action and one final thought. That rubber band snapped and only a useless string of rubber was left, with no use to it anymore. They let go, they said their goodbyes and they walk a road of no return.

After all, it’s not like their love could hold them together any longer.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
